The Flying Finish
by Jensen Jones
Summary: Tom is the only one who has a hope of piloting them out of this crazy asteroid belt, but Janeway is worried: Tom's not well and he hasn't slept, can he pull it off?
1. Chapter 1

"What was that?" Janeway asked, startled, as the ship lurched sideways.

"I'm sorry Captain," the Ensign at the helm said. "We're getting interference from the nova. It's affecting the navigation controls."

"I hope you can handle it Ensign Barker. Mr Paris has only just returned from the away mission. He won't be on duty for at least 8 hours. We have to get out of this planetary system before that nova goes off. And we'll have to do it without his piloting skills."

Chakotay nodded. "They had a tough time - away for longer than expected. It was a very successful mission though. All our material supplies are stocked full. But I hear they hardly got any sleep on the planet. Possibly also to do with radiation patterns from the nova." The ship lurched again. " Woah! Watch it Ensign!"

"I'm sorry Ensign Barker," Harry Kim apologised. "The compensation factor keeps fluctuating. I can't stabilise it. You'll have to compensate manually. I'll reroute the fluctuation data to your console."

"Thank you Harry," the Captain said. "Are you ok with that Ensign?"

""I'll see how I go. As long we don't run into a freak asteroid belt, I think I can cope."

The ship stabilised on it's course and Janeway relaxed. They hadn't seen any meteors on their way into the system so it was unlikely they would come across any now.

"Wait," Chakotay pointed at the viewscreen. "Magnify." Up ahead they were surrounded by jagged meteors hurtling and spinning chaotically. As they watched, two meteors collided causing an explosion that filled half the screen. "You spoke too soon Ensign, " Chakotay shook his head.

"All stop," Janeway commanded.

"An explosive asteroid belt. And we have to navigate on manual thrust?" Chakotay shook his head. "This isn't just freaky, it's extraordinary. We're going to need extraordinary piloting skills."

"I don't think I have those skills, Commander," Ensign Barker paled.

"Mr Kim," Janeway turned to him. "How long do we have until the nova explodes?"

"My best estimate is... 2.8 hours... no!... more like 2.5... wait... it's hard to judge. But I think it's gonna be sooner rather than later."

Janeway got to her feet. "Then we don't have any time to lose." She turned to Chakotay, who also got to his feet. "Tell me Commander, how do you feel about getting us out of this one? Your piloting skills are not half bad."

"Honestly Captain, I can't say I like the look of those exploding asteroids, but if I think I stand a chance, I'd take a bash at them."

"...And?" The Captain asked.

Chakotay paused, looking at the viewscreen. Just looking at the angry jagged meteors made a person feel dizzy and disoriented. A sudden unexpected explosion burst onto the screen, almost making him jump. He turned back to the Captain and shook his head firmly. "At the speed we'll have to be going, there's no way. We need Paris."

Janeway nodded, and pressed her commbadge. "Janeway to Paris." No response. "Janeway to Paris... Computer locate Lt. Paris."

"Lt. Paris is currently in sickbay." Janeway and Chakotay shared a concerned glance. Harry also looked up with concern. Tuvok's brow furrowed.

"Janeway to the Doctor."

"What is it Captain?" he sounded impatient at her interruption.

"How's Mr Paris?"

"Mr Paris was having trouble sleeping. All the away team members are suffering similar symptoms after their 48hrs on the planet surface: muscle tension, insomnia, lack of concentration... "

"Is Tom asleep now?" the Captain interrupted.

"No, he's awake. He's right here."

Tom's voice was heard. "Hi, Captain."

"Tom, how do you feel?" Janeway asked.

"Not too bad." Tom always made light of things, but he sounded weary. "Bit jittery, I guess. The Doc says I just need to relax. It's nothing a hot bath, a massage, and a good night's sleep won't cure. I appreciate your concern, Captain."

"I'm afraid none of us are relaxing until we get the hell away from this nova before it goes off. Tom, I need you on the bridge now." The Captain spoke with dead seriousness.

"Oh man! Here I was thinking you were inquiring out of heartfelt concern for my well-being. You disappoint me Captain!"

"I'm sorry Tom, but I'm hoping you won't disappoint me. We need you at the helm to get us past a freak explosive asteroid belt that's blocking our passage out of the system."

"That's unusual." Tom sounded intrigued. "We didn't encounter anything before. It must have an asymetrical orbit and the signals must be blocked by the nebulae clouds. I'll be right there."

"Captain," the Doctor protested. "Mr Paris needs to rest. Are you sure this is necessary?"

"He's the only one who can get us out of here." Janeway stood firm.

"Fine. But for the record, Mr Paris is not fit for duty. I take no responsibility if anything goes wrong."

Tom tried to take a deep breath to calm himself as he stepped onto the bridge. "Okay, fill me in." He strode to the helm and took Ensign Barker's place, who had gone to help in engineering. His fingers flew over the console checking all the readings as Harry and Chakotay filled him in on the situation. The Captain could see that her pilot was not in top shape. He was obviously weary. His hair was slightly messy and his face looked a little pale. But he was covering it well and it always amazed her how seamlessly and instinctively he controlled the helm, even in the toughest of situations. "Okay, I have a plan in mind that should work." Tom announced. "Listen up, we don't have a lot of time. I'm going to reroute some of the controls to make this work. This is how it's gonna work." He looked to Janeway before proceeding.

"Let's hear it." Janeway nodded.

"Looks like I'm going to be doing most of the work, but I can't do everything. There are too many asteroids to avoid them all on manual thrusters at the speeds we'll need to be doing to get out in time."

"Even for you?" Chakotay asked worried. "If Tom couldn't pull this off, who could?"

"Even for me." Tom nodded. "So, I'm going to ignore the smaller rocks that our shields should be able to handle at full power. Tuvok, you will maintain the shields. Our energy banks are full, so we shouldn't have to worry too much about the shields failing. "

"But what about the explosive asteroids?" Harry asked.

"That's gonna be your job Harry. You're gonna be looking ahead and blasting as many of the explosive rocks out of our way before we get to them."

"That could be dangerous." Chakotay warned, unsure about the plausibility of Tom's plan.

"You bet. I'm gonna be going in fast and making a lot of evasive manouvers, and I want you to back me up Chakotay. If I miss anything, you're going to pick it up, slow me down, fire the reverse thrusters, fine tune my manovuers, whatever's necessary."

Chakotay nodded.

"Sounds like a plan," Janeway was impressed. "And since you seem to be dishing them out, any orders for me Tom?"

Tom would have blushed if he wasn't so tired that he almost felt shaky. A wave of tireness swept his mind but he pushed it back. "Sorry, Captain. You... be the Captain, of course. Oh, and maybe you could also keep an eye on the nova, since Harry will be busy, and make sure we're making it out in good time."

"Good thinking, Mr Paris. Let's do it. Everyone in position."

Janeway took her place in the Captain's seat, and Chakotay took the console to the right hand of the helm.

"Take us in Mr Paris." Janeway ordered when they were ready. "We have less than 2 hours to get the hell out of this place."

They were well into the asteroid belt. Things had got off to a rocky start, so to speak, until the crew found there feet, fulfilling the roles Tom had given them. Then it had been smooth, exhilerating sailing. But Janeway could see that Tom was struggling to keep his concentration. Chakotay was backing him up well, but a couple of times they felt the ship shudder as the shields buffetted against a hurtling rock. And once Tom miscalculated and the ship spun out of control for a moment until he got things under control again. He was getting frustrated with him mistakes. "We're making excellent time, Tom." she praised. "We just have to keep it up."

"Yeah, for how long?" Tom asked. "I don't how long I can hold this together. I'm losing it!"

"You're doing great. Everyone's doing great." Janeway encouraged walking over to the helm.

"Dang!" Tom winced with frustration as he manouvered out of the path of one asteroid right into the path of another.

"It's okay, Tom. I've got it." Chakotay took them around it sucessfully, and they felt only a small shudder. The space ahead looked calmer. They seemed to have come to a relatively quiet patch.

Janeway left her chair and strode to the helm. She stood behind her pilot, placing her hands on his shoulders. He drew a quick breath. She should feel how tense and shaky he was. His breathing was quick and uneven. Up close now, she could see his hands shaking slightly even though their overall movements were smooth. She was as worried as he was that he may not be able to hold it together for as long as they needed. But he was their best chance, if not there only chance. She had to force him to be his best, by believing in him, by making him believe in himself. "Tom I know you can do it." she breathed. "You just need to relax."

"I can't." Tom sighed as the Captain squeezed his shoulders, but she saw his fingered relax a little on the console.

"Maybe I can get the Doctor to give you something," Janeway said leaning over him, "to help you concentrate."

"He already did what he could," Tom told her.

"But he also suggested a massage, right?"

"I'm a tad busy right now, don't you think?" Tom's flicked towards hers for a moment.

"Could be worth it," Janeway suggested gauging her pilot's condition with concern, "We'll make it a quickie." She flexed her fingers.

Chakotay heard and glanced at Janeway. "I've got things under control for now, but you better make it pretty quick."

Tom had not time to object. "Take deep breaths," Janeway said quietly to her pilot, as she slowly massaged his neck and his shoulders firmly.

Tom let out a shaky breath. It felt good and he just wanted to close his eyes and surrender. The Captain was a good masseuse and it was just what he needed. That, and sleep. His breathing gradually became more even, less shaky. Tom closed his eyes for a much needed relaxing moment. When he opened them a bunch of asteroids had burst onto the screen. Reluctantly he sprung into action.

"Tom! I need your help!" Chakotay shouted.

"I'm on it!" Tom's fingers flew across the console and their chaotic ride continued. It went smoothly again for a while. There were a number of near misses, but Tom's strategy was working well, and they were almost through. Everyone was feeling the strain now, but Tom in particular was looking pale with exhaustion. Suddenly Harry shouted out as part of his console exploded and he had to reroute the controls. "Tuvok, what's happening?" the Captain asked.

"Some kind of debris is penetrating the shields. I've increased their strength. The debris originates from behind us, not from the asteroids."

"The nova." Janeway surmised. "It's about to blow. Full speed ahead Mr Paris. We can get through this."

"Remember, Tom," Chakotay told him, "I've got your back."

Tom performed breathtaking manoeuvres one after the other. His skills were astounding. There was no way any other member of the crew could have attempted what he was doing, let alone execute it so naturally and smoothly.

"My god! Paris! You're bleeding!" Chakotay shouted. There was blood running from the pilot's right temple. Chakotay had not seen anything that could have caused it. Tom clenched his teeth in pain but stayed in control and continued flying. He could feel the blood dripping down his neck. Janeway took off her jacket and strode to the helm. "It must have been debris from the nova," Janeway explained. "Tuvok, how are the shields?"

"I've increased power to the shields. They are holding. For now."

She stood behind Tom and pressed her folded jacket to his temple. He startled at her touch. "It's okay Tom. Stay on track. We're almost through."

"Yes, ma'am," he said weakly "I'll keep my eyes on the road", as he navigated the spinning ship between two large asteroids that collided behind them. A spectacular bit of flying. But Janeway had no time to marvel at his skills right now. She had to try and staunch the bleeding from this nasty gash on his temple. She held his head gently but firmly and pressed her jacket against the wound to slow the bleeding as much as she could. She managed to press her commbadge without releasing the pressure too much. "Janeway to the Doctor."

"What is it Captain?"

"It's Mr Paris."

"Ah, of course it is! Will I say I told you so, or just have him beamed directly to sickbay?"

"Neither. I need you on the bridge now."

"Excuse me Captain? I suppose you expect me to fly the ship now? Well, I must say I'd be almost as qualified as Tom Paris, in the condition he was in."

"Not by a long shot Doctor! Mr Paris is doing a fine job piloting Voyager right as we speak. We'd have crashed and burned long ago without him. Unfortunately, Mr Paris has been injured and he's bleeding badly, but we still need him at the helm. Get your medkit, and get here now! All our lives depend on Tom to fly us out of here."

Janeway turned her attention back to Tom. She was amazed he was still conscious, let alone skillfully piloting the ship right now. Then again he had always asserted that he could pilot Voyager in his sleep. He was now leaving most of the finer thurst control to Chakotay now, who was just managing to keep up with him. But Tom was weakening rapidly. She pressed more firmly against his wound, he winced and clenched his teeth, but it was vital he didn't lose too much more blood. "It's going to be okay, Tom, keep it up." She could feel the weight of his head leaning against her body more and more. She pressed her body firmly against him, so he could lean on her some more, and conserve his strength just a little more.

"Chakotay?" Tom asked weakly. For a moment Janeway though he was confusing her with Chakotay.

"What is it Tom?" Chakotay asked.

"How are you doing?"

"Not too bad. We're almost through. We just have to keep this up a little longer."

"I need you to help me out," Tom sighed.

"That's what I'm here for," Chakotay assured, glancing at Janeway. Could Tom keep going, or should he try to take over completely? They waited for Tom to respond. He paused as he steered them expertly through a volley of tumbling asteroids, the shields catching exploding debris from the rocks up ahead - Harry's work. There's no way I could do that, Chakotay thought in awe, but I may have to try. It was not so much the technical skills that he couldn't match, although he knew he didn't have Paris's smoothness and finesse, but it was the quick thinking and the imaginative judgement that he just did not have. And that's what was keeping them alive through this crazy asteroid belt.

Finally Tom spoke. "Chakotay, can I reroute the anterior thrusters to you? I'll make the manoevres, but you'll do the rest? Can you do that? It'll only work if you follow my moves, but you'll be operating most of the controls."

Chakotay nodded. "I can do that. I know your style. We can make it work."

Janeway took a moment to observe how well Paris and Chakotay were doing working so closely together. It was something they usually avoided.

Tom altered the controls and they continued to weave with incredible speed though the asteroids.

"Doctor!" Janeway breathed a sigh of relief at his appearance.

On surveying the pilot's condition with the medical tricorder the Doctor was incredulous. "How can you continue to make Mr Paris fly in his condition!"

"He's the only one who has even a hope of getting us out of here!" Janeway explained.

"Well, I'm afraid there's little I can do right now!" the Doctor almost spat. "The interference from the nova is affecting the regenerators. I can apply a bandage which will help the blood to clot but I cannot treat the wound properly until we are past the nova, and we can get him to sickbay! I'm giving him a shot of adrenalin to keep him from going into severe shock, but it's a temporary measure only!"

"Just do it, Doc," Tom glanced quicky at the Doctor, indicating there was no point arguing with the Captain.

The doctor pressed the hypospray to Paris's neck. "This will speed up your heart rate Mr Paris, and hopefully allow you to remain conscious a little longer." It was hard to tell if Paris was listening. All his focus semed to be on the screen, as he wove Yoyager through the obstacle course of asteroids. The Doctor turned to Janeway instead. "Let's see what we can do about his wound." Janeway removed her jacket, and the Doctor quickly applied a bandage and scanned Tom's temple. "The laceration has not penetrated his skull, which is a relief. However, Tom will go into potentially fatal shock if he losses much more blood, so you had best keep pressure on the wound over this bandage. His skull is not damaged, so you can apply quite firm pressure, don't be too gentle. " Then the Doctor was called to sickbay. Several other crewmembers had been affected by debris that had got past the shields. "Captain I'll leave this hypospray with you," the Doctor pressed it into Jameway's palm. "Give Paris another adrenalin shot, but only if it's critical. Excess adrenalin will exacerbate the bleeding. I hope to see you in sickbay as soon as possible Mr Paris," he spoke into Tom's ear and left, giving Janeway a disapproving look. Janeway replaced her hands on Tom's head and pressed, increasing the firmness over the bandage on Tom's temple that was already beginning to soak with red. He groaned faintly in pain. "It's okay," she reassured him, "Stay focussed." And he did. From somewhere Tom was pulling new reserves of strength and, despite his condition, Voyager continued to glide and dart at incredible speed.

"We're almost clear of the asteroids." Harry announced.

Tom relaxed for a moment, leaning his head into Janeway, who still stood behind him, applying pressure to the now blood-soaked bandage covering his right temple.

"How soon can we go to warp?" Janeway asked, twisting her head in Tuvok's direction.

"I'm not sure we can." Tuvok spoke. "Radiation from the nova has increased ten-fold. It would be unsafe to try. Yet unless we do, we'll be caught in it's nuclear explosion."

"What are our options, Mr Tuvok?"

Tuvok was silent. Paris spoke up, sounding weaker again now the adrenalin shot was wearing off. Only Janeway and Chakotay heard him correctly. "We'll have to shield Voyager somehow."

"Our shields won't hold." Tuvok said.

"I mean find shelter. Maybe in the lee of a very dense planet or moon. If there's anything close enough."

"Mr Kim, do a search for nearby planets," the Captain ordered.

"There is!" Harry breathed with relief. "There is a large planet that should shield us from the nova explosion and still allow us an amazing view of the action so we can collect valuable data. The only thing is..."

"I sensed there was a catch," Tom breathed. Only Janeway heard him.

"What is it Mr Kim?" the Captain asked.

"We kinda have to backtrack a bit..."

"Back into the asteroid belt?" Chakotay was alarmed.

"Only a little." Kim tried to sound reassuring. "It's more like veering off to the side, than backtracking, really."

"We have only 8 minutes until the nova explodes." Tuvok reminded them all. "We'll have to double our speed at the very least."

"Let's go for it," the Captain said. "Harry, lock in our destination. Tuvok, man the shields. Tom, evasive manoeuvres. Chakotay, back Tom up, keep our speed up and keep us on course. Let's beat this nova."

It was a mad dash and they all knew it. Tom's gash to the head was still bleeding. He couldn't keep going much longer. None of them could. But they just had to last out the next 8 minutes, and it would all be over. The end was in sight and it spurred them all on. Janeway wiped the blood with her hand that was threatening to drip into Tom's eye. His forehead felt damp and clammy. She and whispered encouragement to him as she felt him flagging. Just a few minutes to go. They were almost there.

"Oh crap," Tom breathed, as he missed a meteor and it spun into the ship. The shields deflected it, the ship shuddered and Chakotay got them back on course.

"Tom?" Chakotay looked over at the struggling helmsman. He was terribly pale and his hands were visibly trembling, yet somehow he got them past another bunch of angry space rocks, the worst of them, before his body failed him. His hands went slack and he slumped in his seat. But the planet was in sight. It rose before them on the view screen. This was the last stretch of their dash for cover. There were hardly any asteroids left to navigate past.

"Tom!" Janeway cried out supporting his limp body, stopping him from tumbling to the floor. She looked over at her first officer. "Chakotay, you take us from here. Man the helm."

Chakotay quickly helped the Captain ease Tom down to the floor, so he could take the helm. He was surprised at how weak and shaky Tom Paris's body felt. Perhaps Tom's injury had been worse than he thought, but he had no time to dwell on the thought. He took the helm and skillfully navigated Voyager past the few remaining asteroids. While he lacked Tom's flair and brilliance, this last stretch was not beyond his skill and he would get the job done. In just under 8 minutes they made it and Chakotay brought the ship around into the protected lee of the large planet. The nova would go off any second now. The bridge darkened as all power was sent to the shields in preparation for the blast. The crew waited, ready.

Janeway looked down at her pilot spread on the bridge floor. She was kneeling with his head on her knees. Her hand was still over his wound, staunching the loss of precious blood, that now soaked the side of his uniform. She looked into his face. He was only semi-conscious now. He was only just breathing. "Well done Tom! We made it!" she let him know. He sighed almost imperceptibly and his eyes flickered closed. Janeway felt a twinge of panic that he may not open them again. "Tom! Stay with me now," she told him softly but firmly, pressing the hypospray into his neck and delivering the other shot of adrenalin that she hoped would keep him alive until they could get him to sickbay.

His eyes flicked open again."Is that an order?" he asked so inaudibly that Janeway could not be certain that he had spoken at all.

Then the nova exploded. They all felt it. The viewscreen filled with rippling light. First high-energy blue, so bright it was almost white, then dancing yellow and brilliant orange-red, a stunning display. Janeway hardly noticed it. She was focussed only on her pilot's precarious condition. Tom's eyes were still half open and he seemed to be watching the nova display."It's beautiful," he whispered and his eyes fell shut. Janeway felt his body go limp, but the Doctor arrived at that moment. He ran the medical tricorder across Tom's body checking his vitals.

"Well?" the Captain spoke impatiently.

"His vital signs are weak, but stable. He's lost a lot of blood." The Doctor gave Tom several shots from his hypospray. "However since my instruments seem to be working again now that blasted nova has finally, you know, blasted, he needn't lose any more." The Doctor ran the regenerator across Tom's right temple and the wound healed instantly. "May I suggest we avoid these nova thingys in the future Captain?" the Doctor said in disdain. "Now we must just sit tight for a few minutes, until B'Elanna says it's safe to beam Mr Paris to sickbay."

Janeway ran her hand through Paris's soft blonde hair. It was sticky with his blood and sweat. She sighed with relief that he had been able to pull this one off. She hadn't expected it to be this close. She looked around the bridge. Her crew were busy collecting and collating data on the nova. They had known what a close shave it was getting here before the nova hit, but she did not think any of them realised how close Tom Paris had just come to giving his life for them, and for Voyager. Maybe even Tom himself did not realise. Where would they be without him? She looked down at his pale face, his blood-soaked uniform, his tall frame. So many times like today they relied on his skills more than anyone realised. Out here in the delta-quadrant, they needed him more than anyone, because no one else could do what he could. He was a gift. Sometimes, like today, he pulled off the impossible, saving them and the ship when no one else could. But looking at him now, he appeared so vulnerable, so fragile. And in a way he was, Janeway mused. He wasn't the most stable or predictable crewmember, but that was part of who he was. Sometimes, he was on top of the world, irrepressible. Other times he seemed to struggle to get through the day. But he was always willing to do his best for Voyager, and to throw himself into a challenge. Janeway thought back to earlier in the day - just a few hours ago in fact - when Tom Paris had joked about his disappointment that she hadn't been enquiring about him out of heartfelt concern. Janeway bit her lip and berated herself. She should indeed be disappointed in herself for that. As she sat on the floor of her bridge with unconscious Tom Paris's head in her hands, she made herself a promise. In the future she would be more attentive to the wellbeing of all members of her crew, but most especially to her helmsman Tom Paris. Today had been too close a call, and he was too precious to lose.

But it was not quite over yet. "Brace for impact!" Tuvok warned as a huge shockwave approached.


	2. Chapter 2

Chakotay walked to the end of the empty corridor until he reached the Holodeck. For the last three hours he had been supervising repairs to Voyager's shields, and the collation of data from the nova explosion that Voyager had only just managed to escape, thanks to Paris's impressive piloting. Chakotay was tired but had decided to make an appearance at the celebration that was happening on Holodeck 1. He pressed the keypad and the door slid open. He entered the room. Someone had found the time to modify the program especially for tonight. It was Sandrine's bar, but had been extended to twice the size. Crewmen sat at tables, or stood at the bar, talking and laughing, music was playing, and behind it all, against the entire back wall, a huge screen replayed the footage from the bridge, four hours ago. Their journey through the asteroid belt and the nova event was being relived for all to see. It looked spectacular and many of the crew, who were not on the bridge at the time, watched in awe. Cheering erupted every time an asteroid exploded on screen and the entire room filled with an orange glow. Chakotay, who had been on the bridge, helping Paris beside the helm, found this spectacle slightly eerie especially the way it was being replayed at a slightly slower speed that reality. He wondered whose idea this modification had been. It was certainly impressive and gave the rest of the crew an opportunity to see it all.

Chakotay looked around at all the crewmembers seated at tables. There was a large table from engineering and Chakotay saw B'Elanna and Harry Kim amongst those seated. He was incredibly surprised to also see the tall figure of Tom Paris rise from the table, drink in hand. He had assumed that Paris would still be in sickbay. The last time Chakotay had seen the pilot, was after he had collapsed at the helm, after a gash to his temple. Chakotay remembered helping the Captain lift him, semi-conscious, to the floor, minutes before the nova exploded. He remembered the feel of the pilot's limp body, his blood soaked uniform, his pale, clammy skin. It had been hardly four hours ago. Chakotay now searched the Lieutenant for any signs of frailty, but his confident manner gave nothing away. Chakotay made his way to the table.

"Commander!" B'Elanna welcomed him warmly. "I'm so glad you came." She was in a cheery mood and perhaps a little drunk. "Pull up a chair!"

"That's okay, I won't stay long," Chakotay shook his head. "This is an impressive display." He motioned to the back wall, "Whose idea?"

"Wildman's," Harry said. "Isn't it amazing? Seriously Commander, you should join us." Harry also sounded slightly tipsy. The Ensign did not usually speak so forwardly to the Commander.

There was agreement around the table.

"Take my chair, Chakotay," Tom Paris offered. "I was just leaving."

"No way!" B'Elanna exclaimed, "How can you leave? You're the hero! He's our guest of honour, right?" she motioned for the others to agree, which they did. "Tom, this whole celebration is for you!" B'Elanna planted a big sloppy kiss on his jaw, although she'd actually been aiming for his cheek.

At that moment on screen, a massive asteroid exploded and they all witnessed one of the Paris's amazing evasive maneuvers, as though in the pilot seat themselves. The whole room whooped and cheered. Chakotay heard several cries of "Go Paris!" and someone thumped Tom on the back so enthusiastically he spilled his drink. When Tom finished thanking his admirers, B'Elanna grabbed him and tried to pull him back to his seat, but he grabbed her hands laughing, "Hey B'Elanna! I'm just going to the bar! Is that okay?" He turned to Chakotay. "Let me get you a drink Commander! What'll you have?"

"Nothing for me thanks Tom," Chakotay shook his head.

"Come on Chakotay! Work with me here." He mouthed the last part silently.

"Excuse me?" Chakotay asked.

"Gin and tonic? Beer? What'll it be?" Tom Paris played the host.

"Actually Paris, could I have a word?" Chakotay decided to find out what the Doctor had said to Paris in sickbay. Surely the lieutenant should be resting.

"Not what I had in mind, but it'll do." Tom pried B'Elanna's hands from his arm, and stepped towards Chakotay motioning that they move towards the corner of the bar closest to the Holodeck exit.

"God, Chakotay! Take a hint!"

"I beg your pardon, Paris?" Chakotay asked.

"You didn't notice I was trying to find some excuse to get away?"

"I didn't expect to find you here at all," Chakotay admitted. "Let alone drinking, " he added with disapproval as Paris lifted his glass to his lips.

"Hey, this is light beer, okay?" the pilot defended himself, but Chakotay's expression remained disapproving. "Okay, okay, you're right!" Paris changed his tune, pushing his glass into Chakotay's hands, "I shouldn't be drinking! I probably shouldn't be here! I promised the Doc I'd be in bed by midnight, or he wouldn't have let me leave sick bay at all." He ran his hands through his hair, momentarily closing his eyes, briefly revealing his exhaustion to Chakotay, who became concerned. Tom noticed and tried to explain. "It's just that… well, you heard B'Elanna! The guys from engineering and astrometrics organized this whole thing, and they expect me to…"

"Tom, they're your friends. If you explain what…"

"They don't need to know _everything_ that happened!" Tom interrupted.

Chakotay was confused by the pilot's attitude. If he didn't want to be here, if he didn't feel up to it, why didn't he just leave? Why did he need to deny any weakness or vulnerability? It had not been Paris's fault that he was injured on the bridge, and the fact that he had still managed to skillfully pilot Voyager through most of the asteroid belt, was even more to his credit. As Chakotay thought about this, he gazed at the back wall, where they appeared to be dodging another volley of asteroids whilst the eerie orange glow from the nova pulsed ominously. Chakotay glanced over at the Lieutenant. He was leaning against the bar and the orange light flickered across his face, as he also watched the display. At that moment their view tilted to show the planet they were headed toward. The speed slowed and the view spun a little, losing control for a moment. This was the moment, four hours ago, when Paris had finally collapsed from exhaustion and loss of blood, and Chakotay had taken the helm. Now Chakotay noticed Paris sigh. He lowered his head and drew one hand over his face momentarily. He remembered.

"Paris," Chakotay reached out to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," the pilot replied a little too quickly, automatically.

As disinclined as the Commander usually was to try to help Paris, who sometimes didn't seem to want to help himself, in this instance, after their flight together at the helm earlier, Chakotay felt compelled to take action. It seemed he was the only one here who recognized the pilot's fragile state, through his confident facade. Chakotay decided he was going to have to take care of Paris, despite the fact that he rarely understood the man, and sometimes did not respect him. Janeway was right. He had to try harder. This event had highlighted how important the Lieutenant was to Voyager for his piloting skills, if nothing else.

"It's half to midnight." Chakotay told him. "Come on, I'll walk you to your quarters." He placed Tom's half empty glass on the bar.

"Is Janeway here?" Tom asked suddenly.

"Paris, you should keep your promise to the EMH."

As they made to leave, the holodeck doors opened and Captain Janeway herself stepped through and looked around. "Commander!" she smiled, seeming not to see Paris at all. "It's good to see you here Chakotay. How are the reports looking?"

"We have a lot to get through. Should keep us busy."

"Ship repairs?"

"Everything looks good."

"Glad to hear it! Commander, will you join me?" she stepped close and placed her hand on his arm. "There's a little table by the wall. I've something I wish to discuss with you."

"Captain, I'd love to. Maybe a little later?"

Janeway looked at him quizzically.

"Paris made a promise to the EMH…" Chakotay motioned to Paris, who had turned away and was now conversing with several security officers.

"Why is Tom here?" Janeway gazed at him as though she'd seen a ghost. "I'm a little surprised the Doctor released him so soon."

"On the condition that he be in bed by midnight." Chakotay informed her.

"Well, he's cutting it fine, he has fifteen minutes," Janeway sounded irritated.

"I thought I'd stay around and see that he leaves on time. But," Chakotay chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, "it appears I may have to use force. I'm discovering it's not an easy thing to remove Tom Paris from a party."

Janeway sighed and rolled her eyes at his attempt at humor. Why couldn't her pilot and first officer get along more amiably?

"Look," Chakotay continued, "He's armed with a pool queue. The time for diplomacy is past. I'm going in."

"I'll handle this," she told the Commander, stepping forward.

Tom Paris had been listening to another lieutenant's account of the nova, when the Delaney sisters found him. He looked around for Chakotay, but the Commander was talking with the Captain. He had been wondering if Janeway would make an appearance. He had been waiting to talk to her, but now she was finally here he suddenly felt a momentary irrational resentment towards her, and turned away from both the Captain and the Commander. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself with a glass of rum in one hand, a pool queue in the other, being pulled towards the back of the room. Somehow he had just agreed to a pool tournament – him and the Delaneys against engineering. He wondered how he was going to manage even one shot at the pool table with out destroying his reputation when it was currently taking all his concentration just to stay awake and upright. How would he get out of this one? At that moment he felt a familiar hand on his arm. It was Captain Janeway. "Mr. Paris!" she smiled broadly.

Tom wanted to ignore her, but instead he greeted her with a forced smile, "Hey! I didn't see you arrive." He knew she could tell he was avoiding her gaze. Why did she have to make it so hard? "What are you drinking," she continued in a friendly fashion. "May I ?" she took the glass.

"Well, you're the Captain," Tom quipped looking at Meghan Delaney, instead of at Janeway.

"Captain, we've organized a round of pool." Meghan greeted Janeway, "We'd love you to join us," Jenny continued, "but with Paris _and_ yourself on our team, I'm afraid we'd have an unfair advantage."

"Tom's agreed to play pool?" Janeway sort his gaze quizzically, but again he turned away.

Jenny nodded. "We had to head hunt him. Guest of honor, and all."

"Indeed, his presence seems in particular demand tonight," the Captain agreed, "but _I_ heard, that he has a promise to keep!" she told the girls in a casual, gossipy tone.

This time Tom turned towards her. "To a hologram! I'm not sure it counts, Captain." He spoke casually, but as his eyes met hers momentarily she felt a wave of intense feelings from him. Was it anger? She must have imagined it.

"A promise to a hologram still counts." Janeway told him more sternly than she intended. "You know it does!"

"Ooh! I'm intrigued," Meghan admitted. "Is this hologram here? I'll bet it's someone from Fairhaven."

"I can't say anymore," Janeway told her, "but we don't want to be party to a broken promise, do we girls?"

"Oh come on!" Tom protested. "This is nonsense!" Chakotay, who was listening, grinned at his Captains tactics.

"What I propose," Janeway continued, "Is that I take Paris's place at pool," she took the pool queue from his hands, "I'll try to do you justice Tom! And that Commander Chakotay, here, sees to it that our guest of honor doesn't break a promise tonight. Shall we?" she asked the Delaneys.

They agreed and the three women headed towards the back of the room where Torres's team was waiting, leaving Paris and Chakotay at the bar.

"I can't believe it. You were seriously going to stay and play pool?" the Commander reproached the pilot who was leaning heavily against the bar in a casual seeming fashion.. "I can tell you're exhausted Paris, even if no one else seems to notice."

"It seemed the easier option," Paris explained.

"Easier?" Chakotay was incredulous. "Than what?"

"Easier than having to think about what happened…"

At that moment the nova exploded on screen lighting up the room with white light and then flooding the walls with orange and red. It was incredible.

"Wow!" Paris exclaimed. "Let's just stay one more minute, Chakotay, I want to see this."

"It was amazing," Chakotay agreed. "Strange though, watching it for the second time, don't you think?"

"Chakotay," Tom explained, not taking his eyes off the display, "I never saw this the first time round."

"Oh," Chakotay had not quite realized that. He knew that Paris had lost a fair amount of blood, from the gash to his temple. He had collapsed at the helm just before the nova exploded, but Chakotay had not known he had lost consciousness. He thought over what had happened. They had all been too busy at their stations to notice how severely Paris had been hurt. The only person who would have known was the Captain. Maybe that was what she wanted to talk to him about. As Paris watched the nova, Chakotay watched the pilot himself, and as soon as the last radiant waves pulsed across the screen, and cheers and revelry broke out anew across the room, he placed his hand on the Paris's shoulder and motioned that they should leave. It was almost midnight. They managed to slip away unnoticed.

Chakotay led Paris from the holodeck to the turbolift. He was obviously having trouble keeping it together now. Or maybe he was no longer even trying to keep up the act. He almost stumbled into the lift, leaning heavily against the wall.

"How much did you drink, Paris?" the Commander accused, leaning close.

"I'm not drunk," Tom sighed with a surprising lack of self-defense, "I think the stimulants the Doc gave me are wearing off." He slid to the floor of the turbolift and sat against the wall.

"Well, hang in there, we're almost there." Chakotay felt awkward. He wondered if Tom felt that way, or was the pilot was so exhausted he didn't care anymore? "I suppose you'd rather Harry Kim take you to your quarters in this state than me?" he said.

"No, not really," Paris opened up. "Harry, he wasn't at the helm. He'd ask too many questions. It was you at the helm with me. Chakotay, you know I couldn't have made it without you."

"We sure as hell couldn't have make it without you, Tom."

"Yeah. Team effort, right?" Suddenly Tom sounded bitter, sarcastic. "You, me, the Captain…"

"That's right," Chakotay said, kneeling down next to the pilot. "What is it Tom? Talk to me. I don't understand. Why are you angry?"

Tom leaned his head against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. "It's nothing… Well, nothing to the Captain anyway… God Chakotay, don't make me talk about it now… I'm just confused… I don't know what to think… I'm so tired!"

Chakotay almost spoke, but at that moment the turbolift doors slid open. Paris pulled himself to his feet and leaed against the door way.

"Here," Chakotay put Paris's arm over his shoulder, "let me help you."

Chakotay steadied himself, holding the taller man's body against his own. Supporting his weight, he could feel the pilot's body trembling slightly, his hand on Chakotay's shoulder grasped only weakly. "Sorry, I'm such a mess," Paris said between deliberate even breaths, not meeting Chakotay's concerned gaze.

"It's okay. You think you can make it?" Chakotay reassured.

"Yeah."

Chakotay helped Tom Paris down the corridor to his quarters. Once inside, the Lieutenant practically collapsed onto his bed, and lay back against the pillows. He kicked off his shoes, but made no further effort to undress.

"Don't fall asleep just yet, Paris. You should take off your uniform, at least." Chakotay told him.

"What are you going to do about it?" Paris said, not moving at all.

The Commander considered just leaving, but it seemed a little uncaring. Afterall, Janeway had entrusted him with the task of seeing Paris to bed safely. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge beside Paris. The pilot's eyes were closed and he seemed asleep. As Chakotay reached to unzip the front of his jacket, he stirred and opened his eyes. For the first time ever Chakotay felt the pilot was looking at him directly without defiance or defense. His eyes betrayed his weariness, confusion, and surprise. "Chakotay," he said softly, struggling to sit up. "You're still here?"

"Let's get you out of your uniform. You'll be more comfortable. Will you let me help you?"

"I guess I don't have a choice," he told Chakotay angrily, falling weakly against the pillows again.

"What do you mean?" Chakotay asked, trying not to sound irritated.

"You could do anything to me right now, no matter what I say. Why even ask? Whether I say yes or no, you'll do whatever you want anyway."

"Tom, what are you suggesting? I'm trying to help you."

"Fuck, what makes you think I need help?" Tom said sarcastically. But he let the Commander help him out of his uniform. Chakotay folded the uniform and placed it over a chair. He wished he could figure out what the Lieutenant was thinking. To his surprise, as if he'd read his mind, Paris spoke.

"I close my eyes, it's like I'm falling, I see asteroids exploding in front of me… I feel the blood running down my neck… I hear the Captain's voice… everything keeps running through my mind until it all goes black… so black. I just… don't know what I'm going to do now."

"You don't need to do anything right now, Tom. Except rest, okay? You're obviously exhausted." Chakotay pulled at the covers.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm putting you to bed properly," Chakotay said, pulling the covers up. "I'm tucking you in." He fixed the covers and sat down over them. "You need anything else?"

He got no response. Tom Paris was already asleep. It was midnight exactly.

"Good night Paris," Chakotay whispered. He stayed a moment to contemplate, listening to the gentle sound of the pilot's breathing. He wondered if it was true that Paris was not drunk. If so, Paris must have been hurt more severely than the Commander realised. In which case, it seemed strange that the EMH would have released him from sickbay to celebrate on the holodeck. And why was Paris so angry, and yet so determined to appear to be fine? It was a mystery. Chakotay sighed and shook his head. So much for trying to show Paris some sympathy. Then he left Paris's quarters for the Holodeck to find Janeway. She had been with him on the bridge during the nova explosion. If anyone could provide some insight into the mystery that was Tom Paris, it was the Captain Janeway herself.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the day after Voyager's narrow escape from a nova explosion. Everything seemed almost back to normal. The crew were safe, repairs were almost complete, and there were mounds of data to analyse, so everyone was busy.

The turbolift opened and Tom Paris walked onto the bridge. "Sorry I'm a few minutes late Capta… Commander," he apologised, seeing, with surprise, that it was Chakotay in charge this morning, not the Captain. The pilot also saw that his place at the helm was occupied by Baytart. His eyebrows rose. "Has there been a change of plan Commander?"

"Paris, I didn't expect you to be up this early." The Commander scrutinised Tom Paris's appearance. He looked all right, but after last night Chakotay suspected he could definitely use a day off. "The Captain asked me to change the rosters so…"

"The Captain, of course," Paris said coldly. "So you spoke to Janeway last night? After I left? Where is she?"

"Actually I haven't spoken to her," Chakotay admitted. "She left me a message about the rosters. That's all. I'm sorry about the mix up. I assumed she left you a message too."

"I didn't check." Tom paused aware that the whole of the bridge was listening, but decided to continue. He stepped toward the Commander and spoke more quietly. "Chakotay, I'm fine. I'm fit for duty. The Doctor didn't say I wasn't. There was no need to change my shift!"

"Paris, you're acting as though this is some kind of punishment! Take the day off. You deserve it."

"Where's the Captain?"

"She has the day off too."

"Oh, because _she_ deserves it!" Paris said a bit too loudly, causing the rest of the bridge crew to glance at them.

"Tom, do we need to talk in private?" Chakotay asked sternly, wondering what was causing the pilot's attitude. After the celebrations last night, he had hoped that a good night's sleep was all Paris needed. Apparently there was more to it than that.

Tom lowered his voice again. "It's not _you_ I need to talk to, it's _the Captain_. Do you know where I can find her?"

"She wanted some time alone. I'll let her know when I see her at lunch. I'm sure she'll get back to you. Okay?"

"Fine." Paris turned and walked back to the turbolift.

"Enjoy your day off," Chakotay told him, but got no reply.

Chakotay met the Captain in the mess hall for lunch. He was about to broach the subject of Tom Paris and his attitude on the bridge that morning, when the Lieutenant himself strolled over to their table, and stood with his arms crossed. He was out of uniform now, having taken the day off. Here's trouble, Chakotay thought. But at least he might find out what was going on.

"Captain," Paris said.

"Yes?" Janeway looked up from her coffee, apparently unfazed.

"Can I speak with you in private?"

"I'm sorry Lieutenant I'm a little busy. Maybe later this afternoon, or tomorrow would be better…"

"Now!" Tom said urgently, putting his hands on the table. He was not about to be brushed off so easily. "I need to talk to you _now_!"

"Fine! Then speak!" Janeway said challengingly, setting down her mug.

"Okay," Tom was taken aback, and spoke more quietly, aware that half the crew were in the mess hall at this hour. He took a deep breath, and began uncertainly. "It's about yesterday. About what happened on the bridge."

"What about it?" Janeway asked. Chakotay wondered the same thing.

"Well actually, I'd like you to fill me in," Tom explained, glancing at Chakotay who pretended to eat his soup.

"I don't know what you mean, Mr Paris. You were there." Janeway replied. "You flew us to safety."

"No, I got us most of the way through the asteroid belt. It was _Chakotay," _Paris glanced at the Commander who almost choked on his soup at the mention of his name, "who flew Voyager to safety. I lost consciousness. So there's this blank. You were with me, right? Care to fill me in on what happened? Next thing I remember is waking up in sickbay."

"That's right," Janeway said, remembering. She appeared lost in thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Tom, please, we all made it through in the end, so it's not important. Let's not go over it."

"Oh, so its nothing to you then?" Tom took offence.

"What's nothing?"

"That I almost died to save Voyager!" Tom's voice rose and several heads turned.

"Is that true?" Chakotay interjected suddenly, but was ignored. A few things Paris had said last night had already lead Chakotay to wonder if the pilot had been more seriously injured yesterday than he had realised. Any sympathy he felt for Paris however, did not appear to be shared by their Captain. Chakotay wished he knew what had happened and what was going on between them.

Calmly furious, Janeway stood up. "Tom Paris, I expect all my officers to be willing to do the same. I would die to save Voyager, myself and if…"

"I'm not questioning _your_ loyalty to _Voyager_!" Tom exploded, "I'm questioning _my_ loyalty to _you_!"

There was a silence. "I beg your pardon, Lieutenant?" Janeway's tone was threatening.

Paris appeared to have shocked himself with his outburst, along with everyone else in the mess hall. Paris appeared more uncomfortable than Chakotay had ever seen him, and he'd seen the pilot in some tense situations. The whole mess hall must be listening now, Chakotay realised. When Tom spoke again his voice was deathly quiet, and Chakotay had to strain to catch all the words. "Captain, I've put my trust in you. You know I have. I have trusted that if you were to sacrifice my life for Voyager, that it would be justified."

"And you don't think it was yesterday?" Janeway surmised grimly. "Well, I'm sorry Tom, but it was my decision to make, not yours and…"

"I know!" Tom interrupted heatedly. "I know it doesn't matter what _I_ think. _You're_ the Captain. It was _your_ decision. I _know_ that. So I'm asking _you_. _Was it justified?_"

Janeway said nothing.

Paris spoke again despairingly. "Obviously you don't think so, or why have you been lying to me?"

"I never…"

"You deceived me, and you've kept it secret! Captain I know you ordered the Doctor not to tell me."

"Tell you what?" Chakotay asked.

"How did you…" Janeway began.

"How did I find out? I read my medical file, Captain. Did you forget I had clearance?" he said in disgust.

"So now you know," Janeway sighed.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" Tom raged.

"I was going to!"

"Yeah, right." Tom spat. "When? Captain, you've been ignoring me since it happened!"

"You think _I've_ been ignoring _you_?" Janeway was incredulous.

"Yes! Pretending like nothing happened!"

"What happened?" Chakotay still wanted to know, along with every crewman in the mess hall. He glanced from Paris to Janeway, hard pressed to decide who was angrier. They both still ignored him.

"Tom," Janeway said furiously, "you're the one who's been pretending everything's fine. I didn't realise you knew, but now that I do, the way you've been acting so cavalier… Tom you're angry at me for keeping this quiet, and yet you _hate_ betraying any vulnerability, you'd _rather_ none of the crew knew what really happened!"

"You're right." Tom admitted, looking pale all of a sudden. "But if they do find out, I'm not the one who has anything to be ashamed of."

"Enough!" Chakotay bellowed. Things had gone too far. "Paris, I don't know what this is about. What I do know is that you, Paris, and you, Captain," he turned to Janeway, "You both need to compose yourselves, so we can discuss this in a civilised manner. And, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to know what the hell is going on!" The mess hall was silent. Everyone had stoped eating.

Janeway paused, placing her hand to her forehead. "Chakotay, let's not discuss this in public any further," Janeway almost pleaded.

"Well I asked to speak privately didn't I?" Tom reminded her before backing off and turning to leave.

"He did," Chakotay agreed as the mess hall erupted in chatter. Crewmen began to discuss what they had heard and what it could mean.

"Where are you going?" Janeway called out to Tom over the suddenly noisy mess hall. Chakotay's hand was on her arm, preventing her from following him. She knew he would not let go until she had told him what had happened.

"To sickbay." Paris told her. "Is that okay with you, Captain?" his voice filled with sarcasm, "Somehow I don't feel so good."


	4. Chapter 4

Chakotay caught up with Paris on his way to sickbay. "Let me walk you to sickbay?" he asked.

"Whatever," Paris hardly glanced at him.

They walked in silence for a bit. Tom looked angry but pale.

"I know I lost my cool back there." Paris finally spoke. "I didn't plan to."

Chakotay simply nodded.

"I'm so mad at Janeway right now," Paris continued.

"That's quite apparent."

"I wish I could tell you what happened but…"

"She told me." Chakotay revealed.

"What?" Tom stopped walking abruptly and faced Chakotay.

"So she told you, before she even said a word to me! Boy, this just gets better and better! I wonder who else knows? So when exactly was she planning to tell me? I'll take a guess: never! It seems everyone on this ship knows more about me than I do – especially the Captain! Well, screw her!"

"Paris! Let's not jump to conclusions. She didn't plan to tell me. She only told me just then, after your little scene in the mess hall. I'd say she kept this from everyone, not just you Paris. The question is, why? I'm sure she has an explanation." Chakotay was confused about the Captain's motives, but he was trying to take his own advice and not jump to any conclusions of his own.

"Why? I'll tell you why. Because she thought she could! And because she didn't want to lose my loyalty!"

"Has she?"

They arrived at sickbay, and before Paris could answer, the EMH appeared before them.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," the EMH recited automatically - until he saw Tom Paris. "No need to explain," he immediately grabbed his medical tricorder. "I'm so glad to see you Mr Paris!" the Doctor seemed genuinely relieved.

"Never thought I'd hear you say that Doc," Tom admitted wryly, trying to glance at Chakotay to see if he had noticed the Doctor's tone.

The doctor immediately started scanning him with his medical tricorder. "Let me check that your injuries have been healing as they should."

Chakotay noticed that the EMH began scanning, not Paris's temple which had been injured on the Bridge, but his chest.

"I've been worried Mr Paris. I've been waiting for you all morning. I know I didn't specifically ask you to check in, but the Captain told me she'd make sure you would…"

"Can't you just be honest with me Doc?" Tom pushed his medical scanner aside in annoyance. "I know what happened, okay?"

"You know?" the EMH looked up at the lieutenant, and the Commander beside him.

"I've known since last night." Paris admitted.

"And you Commander?"

"Janeway told me just now," Chakotay added.

"Really? Well that's a relief! I'm glad she's told you both. Now we can all be honest at last hmm?" the Doctor smiled with satisfaction.

"I wish," Paris said ruefully. "I didn't find out from the Captain. I only know what happened because I opened my medical file last night. I confronted her about it in the mess hall just now. Chakotay was with us, so she was kind of forced to tell him."

"Oh dear," the Doctor frowned, "not the way I would have had you find out."

Paris nodded bitterly, his face pale and weary.

"I'm disappointed by this news," the Doctor frowned deeper, resetting his medical tricorder, "I was sure she wanted to tell you herself, so I promised I wouldn't…" he began scanning Paris's body again, "I should never have agreed to…" The Doctor's tricorder, scanning over Paris's heart, started beeping urgently "…let you leave sickbay! Mr Paris your heart rate is much too rapid. Sit down immediately." He pushed Tom onto the biobed. "Commander, pass me that hypospray."

At that moment Harry Kim burst into sickbay.

"Tom! I heard from the astrometrics team that you had some kind of argument in the mess hall, is this true? They said you're in big trouble with the Captain!"

"Oh yeah?" Paris rose and turned to the ensign. "Or maybe it's the Captain who's in trouble with me!"

"What?" Kim was shocked by the pale rage burning in Tom's face. Things were even worse than he feared.

"Please Mr Paris, try to stay calm," the Doctor demanded quietly, still monitoring his heart rate. His hand on the pilot's shoulder gently coaxed him to take a seat on the biobed again. Chakotay had passed him the hypospray and the Doctor quickly administered two shots causing Paris to draw a quick breath.

"Tom," the ensign begged his friend, "tell me what happened!"

"Can we leave the gossip for later Ensign Kim?" the Doctor raised his voice, before Tom had a chance to respond. "Mr Paris is unwell. He needs to rest. So unless your conversation is going to have a calming effect on my patient, which I doubt, I'd prefer you to step aside!"

Harry was taken aback.

"Do as he says," Chakotay advised.

At that moment Janeway strode into sickbay, and they all turned toward her. "I'm here to speak with Paris," she announced.

"Here we go. I'm going to do now what I should have done last night," the Doctor mumbled to Paris and Chakotay, then turned to address Janeway. "Captain, you may discuss whatever you want with Mr Paris - but not until his heart rate is stabilised," the Doctor told her. "I won't let you overrule me this time. Doctor's orders."

The Captain was shocked. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise…"

Chakotay walked over to her. "Captain, come with me. We need to talk about this. It may as well be now."

"I know we do. All right," Janeway sighed. She and Chakotay went into the Doctor's office and shut the door. Paris and Kim could still see them through the soundproof glass windows.

"What are they talking about?" Kim asked. "And what's wrong with your heart?" He noticed the EMH was still hovering around Tom with his instruments.

"Well Harry, they're talking about me." Tom told him, his voice sounding more tired than angry now.

"Arguing, more like," Harry Kim observed. Chakotay appeared to be confronting the Captain in his calm firm manner, but Harry sensed he was restraining anger. Janeway appeared flustered, shaking her head and gesticulating with shaking hands. "It looks bad," Harry noted, shaking his head.

"You think? Oh man," Tom said despairingly, "I wish I hadn't said the things I said to the Captain in the mess hall. I wish I hadn't said anything! Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut? This time, she's going to kill me for sure. Doc, why didn't you just let me die?" The EMH was not amused.

And your heart?" Harry asked again. "What's wrong with your heart Tom?"

"Okay, enough with the questions Harry. Ask the Doc, not me. I'm not supposed to know anyhow. And I'm beginning to wish I'd never found out!" Tom winced and screwed his eyes shut. He was awfully pale, and his hands gripping the edge of the biobed were white-knuckled.

"Alright," Harry was confused. "Doc?" he looked over at the EMH who was now busy calibrating his surgical tools. The hologram only glanced at him in annoyance and focussed his attention on his patient.

"Lie down, Mr Paris," the Doctor commanded softly, but firmly.

"Is that necessary?" Tom's voice was shaky.

"Yes," the Doctor said simply.

Tom sighed and did as he was told. He lay down on the biobed, feeling almost dizzy, like he was spinning through space. "Woah," he felt his panic rising. He was in the asteroid belt again, but the controls were slipping from his hands.

"Take deep breaths Tom," the EMH told him, whilst fitting canisters into a hypospray. "Relax, and breathe." Tom's shaky breaths slowly became deeper. "That's better," the Doctor encouraged.

"This is serious isn't it," Harry had surmised from Janeway and Chakotay's body language through the soundproof windows, from Tom's pale face and increasingly shaky breathing, and from the EMH's deep concern which was obvious by the change from his normally brusque bedside manner.

Finally the Doctor spoke to him, without taking his eyes off Tom. "Mr Paris's heart was damaged during the shock wave in the aftermath of the nova. I repaired the damage last night, but at least a full day of rest is necessary before the healing is complete. Of course Mr Paris here has spent the last 24 hours doing everything _but_ resting, from what I've heard: partying, drinking, playing pool, turning up to a shift on the Bridge, starting scenes in the mess hall, and who knows what else!"

"Hey!" Tom opened his eyes. "Maybe if someone had taken the time to explain this to me properly…all I knew is what I read…"

"Calm down Tom. Nobody's blaming you!" the Doctor gently pushed Tom back against the biobed.

"Like hell you're not!" Tom's blue eyes were angry and hurt. "Does Janeway expect me just to be grateful to be alive? Well maybe I would be if I were told!" he continued as the Doctor hovered over him with his tricorder. "What angers me is that I've been kept in the dark. How do you expect me to behave, huh? Like it's just another day in the office?!"

"Tom, you wanted my honesty, so here it is: I think your anger toward the Captain - and myself - is perfectly justified," the EMH admitted, calibrating his hypospray. "For my part, I regret my decision to go along with the Captain's wishes not to inform you fully. I'm truly sorry. But regardless of your feelings or their justifications, right now, you _need_ to calm down. Your condition is serious and this anger is causing you to deteriorate rapidly. If I am to save your life (again), I need you to save your anger for later time – which you will _hopefully_ have. I need you to calm down. Preferably without resorting to more drugs. Can you do that?"

Tom collapsed back to the bed in defeat. Everything swirled and started to go dark. "Oh God!" Tom moaned faintly. He remembered collapsing at the helm, the Captain leaning over him, the nova, about to expode, lighting up the viewscreen above him. But now it was the Doctor leaning over him, pressing a hypospray firmly to his neck and saying gently, "I'll take that as a no." Harry was beside him too. "Stay with us Tom," he implored.

"Where exactly would I go?" Tom replied faintly, "to hell?"

"It's possible," the Doctor conceded, not unkindly. "Hopefully it won't come to that. If it does, I'll just have to bring you back - again."

Harry glanced at the EMH in alarm. "Tom's going to be okay, right Doc?"

"He will, if I have any say in the matter. If only I'd stuck to my guns instead of listening to Captain Janeway last night, he wouldn't be in this mess right now!" The EMH placed his hand on Tom's forehead. "Mr Paris," he said calm, but serious. "Are you listening?"

"Yeah," Tom breathed, his blue eyes opening and focusing slowly. "Yeah, what is it Doc? I feel strange, like I'm floating in a vacuum."

"You're heart's not operating as it should."

"No kidding."

"I'll activate the biobed. I'm going to have to operate again. Immediately. Mr Kim will stay here and assist me." The Doctor glanced at Harry who looked alarmed.

"I don't have medical training! What will I have to do?" Harry asked.

"Don't look so alarmed Ensign. I'm not asking you to do rocket science, it's just heart surgery! Besides, I'll be conducting the surgery. All you have to do is stay and talk to Mr Paris. You seem to be doing that anyway. If fact I hardly seem able to stop you!"

"Talk to Tom? You mean he'll be awake?"

"Of course. Unless it goes wrong. It's only minor surgery, using intersecting infrared beams to block the damaged blood vessels. When Tom's heart rate stabilises, we'll know it has worked. Now stay with Mr Paris, Ensign, while I get my instruments."

Tom focused his eyes on Harry. "It's okay Harry," Tom told him faintly. "The Doc knows what he's doing."

Harry leaned in close so that he could hear, and smiled uncertainly. "Hey, I'm supposed to be consoling you, not the other way around."

The doctor returned with his instruments and began the operation, motioning for Harry to continue a conversation with Tom. "You may feel some slight discomfort," he warned Paris. "So I hope Mr Kim will keep you distracted."

"So how was the pool tournament last night?" Tom asked Harry softly.

"It was okay. The engineering team won. Janeway's game seemed a little off, actually. I don't think she was concentrating."

"Really? She seemed perfectly able to concentrate on the bridge earlier even when I was practically bleeding to…ouch!" Tom winced in pain.

"I'm sorry Mr Paris. Ensign Kim, you'd be more helpful to if you choose a topic that does not involve Captain Janeway," the EMH advised.

"Okay," Harry took the advise on board. "What did you think of Neelix's latest concoction? That soup wasn't too bad."

"I didn't try any."

"Why not?"

"I guess I was too busy yelling at Janeway. Chakotay seemed to be enjoying it, though. Ouch! Doc! That really hurts!"

"Almost done," the Doctor said.

"How'd B'Elanna pull up this morning Harry? She sure was enjoying herself last night." Paris desperately tried to keep the conversation going, to distract himself. He was feeling weaker and more vulnerable to the pain from the Doctor's instruments.

"You haven't seen Torres?" Harry asked. "I thought… I thought you guys were meeting for lunch?"

"Oh shit!" Paris's eyes rolled back.

"I'm sorry," the EMH apologised automatically. "That was the last artery to repair. The surgery is over now. Your heart rate is stabilising." But this time Paris's outburst was not caused by the surgery.

"What's the time?" Paris asked weakly. "She must be waiting for me. Doc, I have to leave."

The EMH placed his hand consolingly on the pilot's shoulder, surveying his condition. The surgery had taken a toll. Tom's heart was beating normally, but he was extremely fatigued. This time the EMH did not want to take any chances. "Absolutely not Mr Paris. You are staying here until you are fully recovered and rested. No amount of persuasion will influence me this time."

"But what about my lunch date with B'Elanna Torres?" Paris asked sleepily.

The EMH met his gaze with a wry smile. "A date with a Klingon, Mr Paris, is not my idea of rest. I'm sorry. You're staying here."

Paris's eyes fell shut. "He's sleeping," the Doctor informed a concerned Harry Kim. "The surgery was successful. Thank you for staying Ensign."

"I better go find B'Elanna," Harry decided, heading for the door. "If she thinks Tom stood her up, she's going to be real mad!"


	5. Chapter 5

The EMH was still clearing up from surgery when Chakotay and the Captain finally emerged from the Sickbay Office. They had been in deep discussion for some time. "How is he?" the Commander glanced at the pilot's form lying on the main biobed.

"Mr Paris is resting. He's going to be fine." The EMH told him.

The Commander appeared relieved. The Captain pushed past him to see Tom for herself. The Doctor was shocked to notice her cheeks were wet, as though she had been crying. He glanced at the Commander, who said nothing.

"Tom," Janeway breathed, walking over to the biobed. "I never meant for this to happen." She stood over him, bowing her head. The Doctor noticed her brush a stray lock of the pilot's blonde hair aside affectionately. When Paris stirred, Janeway drew her hand back in alarm. "I should go," she said, making to leave. The EMH went over to her. "Captain, his heart has now been repaired. His condition is stable. If you desire to speak with him…"

"No," the Captain cut him short. "For now, I think it may be best if I go."

Chakotay was shaking his head.

The Doctor noticed Paris stirring again, and went to his side. The Captain lingered by the door, uncertain, watching as the pilot's eyes flickered open and he breathed, "Where am I?"

"You're in sickbay Mr Paris. Just relax." The EMH informed him.

Okay," Tom sighed. "God, I had the strangest dreams, Doc. I dreamt that my heart… stopped… that I died on the bridge of Voyager… the Captain was there… and behind her, all this light… exploding… until everything went dark… I can't… I can't remember… was it a dream?"

The Doctor said nothing, but turned to the Captain. "There's no time like the present," he told her.

Janeway finally made up her mind and came to stand over the biobed, so that Paris could see her. The Doctor stepped aside.

"It wasn't a dream," Janeway spoke almost in a whisper, looking down at the pilot's bewildered face. "It was real," she swallowed.

"Janeway?" Paris asked, focusing his eyes on her face. "I remember now," his head was still fuzzy from sleep. "It's coming back… the party last night, the mess hall, the things I said…"

"Tom," the Captain begged. "Please, don't get angry yet. Let me explain first."

He conceded, and waited for her to begin.

In her mind Janeway put herself back to where she had been 24 hours ago: On the bridge, in the midst of a crazy aseroid belt which could easily see Voyager torn to shreds, a nova explosion imminent, which would surely destroy then all if they couldn't fly to safety in time. "I made a mistake," she admitted out loud. "You're our best pilot. I wanted to keep you at the helm. You were our best chance to pilot Voyager clear of the asteroids, clear of that nova. But… after you were injured… I _should_ have sent you to sickbay immediately, before the transporters went offline. I _should_ have had Chakotay take over the helm. I _should not_ have kept you at the helm until you collapsed like that."

"Okay," Tom's fragmented memories of the event flooded back. He had felt so weak, wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep, but he had focussed on flying Voyager with all the strength he'd had, just like his Captain wanted him to.

"You were losing so much blood… I was worried, I knew you were exhausted, but you were still piloting Voyager almost flawlessly, better than Chakotay could have done. I decided to keep you at the helm for as long as possible."

"You were doing what you thought was best for Voyager."

"I was putting your life in unnecessary danger!"

"Maybe it was necessary. Who knows what would have happened with Chakotay at the helm? We both know what his piloting is like."

"Tom, be serious," she reproved. "Sure, the ship may have needed more repairs but… " she fell silent.

"Okay," Tom frowned, "So you think you made a mistake. That still doesn't explain why…" Tom frowned. "Exactly what happened after I collapsed? Mind telling me that?" Tom was compelled to ask.

Janeway sighed, and continued her account. "After the Doctor healed the gash on your temple, I was so relieved. I felt that I'd made a bad decision, but I'd got off lightly. You were unconscious from the blood loss, but the Doctor pronounced you were stable. You were going to be okay. But he didn't see the shockwave coming." Janeway gulped. "Neither did I."

"The shockwave?" This was new to Tom.

"It was very sudden. And it was rough. The Doctor thinks your heart was probably already injured slightly by flying debris at the same time as you received the gash to your head. That, compounded with your loss of blood, and then the shockwave…" Janeway couldn't continue. She hoped Paris did not notice how choked up she was. She blinked back tears remembering the horror of that moment after the shockwave when…

"My heart stopped…" Tom knew this, from having read the Doctor's report in sickbay last night. His medical report had recorded that it had taken almost 10 minutes to revive him. He had been stunned to read it, and to realise that both the Doctor and the Captain appeared to have deliberately kept that information from him.

When Janeway finally began speaking again, her voice had changed. She knew he was still angry at her, and she felt her own temper rising defensively. "Only moments before, you had been flying Voyager brilliantly. No one on the bridge even _suspected_ that you had been injured badly. I was the _only_ one who knew, and I underestimated the severity of your situation. When your heart stopped, I was shocked. I had B'Elanna transport you to sickbay as soon as the transporters were back on line. She simply locked on to your comm badge and I don't think she realised anything was amiss." Janeway shook her head. "I stayed in sickbay while the Doctor tried to revive you. It seemed to take forever. I thought I was going to lose you." Janeway's voice wavered, and she could feel her eyes tearing up again, but she pushed on, and kept speaking. "Finally the Doctor had you stabilised, and managed to repair the damage to your heart. I _knew_ I wanted to be the one to explain to you what had happened. Before you regained consciousness however, I had to leave and organise ship repairs. On leaving sickbay I made the EMH promise not to tell you about anything that had happened. It had been _my_ mistake, and I wanted you to hear it from _me_. Unfortunately I didn't manage to get back to sickbay until much later. I was on my way there, to speak with you, when I dropped in on the Holodeck celebrations. When I saw you there… I didn't know what to think… I can't desribe how I felt. You appeared to be fine, more than fine in fact, having a grand time! I was taken aback… I didn't know how to approach you… I thought maybe I didn't need to tell you right away… Maybe I had been overreacting. So I put it off. I kept putting it off, waiting for the right moment. I thought it would get easier but…"

"It only gets harder, believe me, I know." Paris gazed intently up at his Captain.

She blinked back her tears. "If only I had sent you to sickbay instead of keeping you at the helm. None of this would have happened. For you to confront me, the way you did in the mess hall… Tom, I don't know if you can forgive me for my mistake," she shook her head in despair.

"For the 'mistake' you made on the bridge?" Paris sighed heavily and swallowed. "Of course I can."

"What?" She had not expected to be forgiven that easily.

"But," he continued, and Janeway's heart fell. "It's the mistakes you've make after that that angers me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The fact that you didn't tell me what happened. That you kept brushing me off. Even when I asked to speak with you!"

"So you can't forgive me?" Janeway surmised.

"I didn't say that," Tom sighed. "It would be hypocritical of me to say that, wouldn't it?" he admitted, referring to his past. "I put my trust in you, ever since our first conversation in New Zealand. I just… I just never expected you to be dishonest with me, that's all." He paused, gazing up at the ceiling. "I've always been honest with you," he revealed.

"Is that right?" Janeway felt annoyed that he always had to bring up the fact that she had got him out of prison back on Earth. "Tom I appreciate your loyalty, I do, but… I'm your Captain, I'm not your… your…" Janeway could feel herself getting angry again, despite her tears. She shook her head, turning away from him, to try and straighten out her thoughts.

Paris pulled himself up to a sitting position on the biobed. The EMH stepped towards him but he held up his hand to indicate that he was okay. He placed a hand on Janeway's shoulder to turn her back towards him. He knew what she was thinking. "My saviour?"

"Exactly!" she faced him. "I'm not your saviour, Tom Paris! You put a lot of pressure on me that way. I never asked for it!"

"Okay," Paris was offended.

"That's not what I meant to say. I know you have a high opinion of me, and I appreciate that you are grateful to me for getting you out of prison."

"You have no idea."

"It is true that my decision to do so, which I did not make lightly, means that I have always felt a greater level of responsibility for you, for your wellbeing, that for any other crewmember. It's because of me that you are here, I feel that, I do, I feel responsible for you, Tom. But…"

"But?"

"But sometimes I just wish we could get past this. Sometimes your deference to me really grates."

"Deference to you?" he crossed his arms over his chest.

"What I mean is I'd prefer you didn't substitute your own judgement for mine. I need my officers to trust their own judgement."

"You don't think I do?"

"Sometimes you do. And when you do, you're _more_ than willing to make that clear! But in other situations, you _don't_ speak up, you _don't _trust yourself, and when that happens you defer to _me_." Janeway could feel herself getting angry, and a little irrational.

"Okay, Captain. You know what? I'm glad you're really being honest with me now." Paris sounded sarcastic. "Is that what you think happened on the bridge yesterday?" he was confused. "I didn't trust my own judgements? You said yourself my flying was brilliant. I did everything you wanted me to do!"

"Exactly! That's exactly what I mean. I can only base my decisions on what I know, and I don't know _everything_ Tom," she defended herself. "I certainly don't know everything about _you_. No one on Voyager does – especially when it comes to how you're _feeling_. I know you're the best pilot we have Tom, but I didn't realise how badly you were injured. How could I have with the way you were flying so well? If I had have known, if you could have _let_ me know, I would never have kept you at the helm!"

"I see."

"I'm not perfect Tom."

"Oh, I can see that," he quipped. She shot him an angry glare, and he spoke more seriously. "I guess I was concentrating so hard on flying Voyager though those asteroids, I was hardly aware of anything else, even myself. That's how it is when I fly sometimes."

"Tom, I just need you to look after yourself," Janeway tried to explain. "We need you on Voyager. _I_ need you. I need you _alive_. If you'd died," here she choked up again, "I don't know what I'd have done…"

"Here," Paris put his arms around his Captain to comfort her. He was not angry anymore. She was surprised at first and pulled away. Then she gave in and leant into his chest. They stayed that way for several moments before Paris spoke.

"I'm glad you've told me all this. And I see now that you're only human. It's true, you don't know everything – not even about yourself," he smiled to himself.

"What do you mean?" she wiped away her tears.

"Well, you're obviously extremely upset about what happened on the bridge."

"Of course. I made a mistake as Captain of Voyager," she looked him in the eyes.

"No, you didn't." Paris insisted. "After all, Voyager is still in one piece. The crew is safe. We're all still here. And we've got a whole bunch of data to study on that nova."

"Then why do I feel so awful about what happened?" she searched his face for an answer.

"The only mistake you've made, Kathryn, is not to realise…" he smiled almost cheekily and it was as though the sun had come out, "how much you care about me."

It took a moment or two for his words to sink in. When they did she finally understood how true they were. She had not realised. She had not anticipated being so deeply affected by the thought of losing Voyager's best pilot – but it had nothing to do with his piloting skills.

"You know it's true," he touched her face.

"Mr Paris," she smiled at last, "I think you're right."

He put his arms around her again, and they hugged each other tightly.

"Let's talk again real soon," Paris said.

"Okay," Janeway agreed.


End file.
